


The Value in an Ending

by Darkhymns



Series: The Great Detective Papyrus Mysteries! [4]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Conversations, F/M, Friendship, Noir Atmosphere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 07:27:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10552424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkhymns/pseuds/Darkhymns
Summary: Being a judge can be tiring (especially when you're swindling the government), so Sans always makes sure to visit the bakery down the street for some good food, some bad laughs, and the lovely voice of a nice friend.He wants to make sure to keep this happy ending.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a response to Sky's most recent story, [Murder with a Side of Lies,](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9575243/chapters/21651074) part of the [Detective Papyrus series.](http://archiveofourown.org/series/503683) Takes place after that story's events with a lot of references to it, and it's a super-fun read anyway that you should check out. *hint hint*
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy.

Everyone knew about Toriel’s Bakery café that was huddled between the barber shop and the small fruit market down on Old Abode Lane. Even if you didn’t know it by name, the scent of her famous butterscotch pie was hard to ignore when you passed by. The waft of golden, flaky bread and the tinge of cinnamon spice would make its way through the air, unhindered by the constant storms and showers that took over the dreary skies, enticing the curious, the hungry, and those with a weakness for sweets.

Sans didn’t fit any of those categories (indifferent, no stomach, and he preferred food of the greasy variety), but the scent of that pie made him go to her shop anyway.

There was a sign over the door. It was printed boldly and clearly for all to see, along with a useful design of a clock. ‘ _Will be back in exactly 1 hour. We are sorry for the inconvenience.’_

Nah, that’s alright.

He pushed open the door, the bell atop tinkling as he entered. It was good to get out of the rain, and him being the numbskull that he was, he didn’t bring an umbrella or a hat to cover his shivering bones. Well, usually the rain didn’t hit him- it just always seemed to miss him at the right moment. But this time, Sans didn’t try to cheat out of it. After all, it was okay to get dunked on once in a while. And hey, this way, his skull was now shiny and clean.

Pink slippers placed themselves on the welcome mat, which was both simple and elegant, if he had to describe it. The ‘Welcome’ on it was stylized in cursive, printed against a violet background with pretty designs of curls and columns that resembled architecture. It was also large enough for the feet of the biggest of monsters. Sans, being the opposite of that, felt quite engulfed within the mat’s confines.

“yo, tori,” he called out, but she wasn’t present. It seemed no one was in the shop right now. (Guess that sign was for something). He walked towards the displays of cakes and cookies, pies and pastries, and the special snail creations counter. It was midday and items from each section had been sold to prospective customers, except for the snail treats. A shame, really. The snail pie wasn’t so bad if you put enough whipped cream on it and ignored the crunchy texture of shells between your teeth.

Sans then went through the little open space between the shop counter, heading straight for the back door.

Can’t break with tradition.

“knock knock,” he said, rapping bare knuckles against the wood.

He heard two distinct sounds then; the airy laugh of that sweet old lady, and the sigh of a certain bud of his.

He was hoping the kid would be taking his nap right about now. Oh well, can’t have everything.

“Who’s there?” spoke the kind voice.

“ice cream,” he answered.

“Ice cream who?”

“ice cream if you don’t let me in.”

He basked in her laughter, which was only slightly ruined by another’s groan and frantic whisper of, “Come on! That was lame!”

Hearing plates clink from beyond the door, his joke buddy then spoke out, “It’s open.”

Sans was greeted to the sight of the shop owner known as Toriel. She was tall and poised in her posture, hands clasped delicately on the dining table within the room. She was seated among a pie tin that was placed within the center of the table, several slices already having been cut from its shape. Sans saw his own plate – the one with the ketchup bottle next to it. On the pie slice was a red-drizzled drawing of a skull. Aww.

A bit further off from the condiments and sweets, the other side of the table had different objects; namely books, some paper and pencils, and a hat with a grumpy-looking, golden-petaled flower on it.

“I was just helping him with some of his homework,” Toriel explained as Sans made his way to his seat. “Right now, we are on algebra.”

“Math is dumb!” Flowey declared. He held a pencil in his leaf, albeit with some difficulty.  “Who even uses this trigonometry junk in real life anyway?”

Sans looked at the flower. Man, this was good to pass up.

“you use it all the time, kid. triangle shapes are all around you. why, it’s as easy as pie.”

Flowey narrowed his eyes at the skeleton, particularly at the way Sans’ jacket was still sopping wet from the rain outside, damping both the carpet and seat. “That was stupid. You’re just stupid!”

“Flowey, that is quite enough,” Toriel chastised. She gave a little tap on Flowey’s head, making the plant flinch. “Please behave yourself when we have a guest.”

“no sweat, tori. he just hasn’t discovered math’s inner sweetness. it’s the reason pie even exists.”

Flowey threw down his pencil. “No, it’s not!”

“kid, would i lie to you? you ever hear about the worst thing about getting hit with pie?” Sans grinned wide. “get this. it’s because pie…” He turned his eye sockets to Toriel.

She finished with, “It never ends!”

Flowey groaned and growled and pushed away his math assignment. “I still don’t get it!!”

“oh yeah, tori. got, uh, a message for ya.” Sans took a crumpled-up note out of his pocket, though that was being generous. It was practically wadded into a paper ball, down to the size of a nickel. He tossed it over to Toriel, who deftly let it bounce upon her palm.

“…Sans, usually your letters are a bit more… well-prepared. Though I supposed this would have been difficult to mail.” Despite her words, she didn’t sound annoyed in the slightest. She smiled at the skeleton, and went to work on the paper ball as if it was a gift ready to be unwrapped. It was a challenging exercise for her large hands, but she was determined to see it through!

“now you know i like the snail mail we have going on between us.” Sans’ voice was light as he spoke. He watched as Toriel untangled the crinkled paper, and then looked away. Eye sockets wandered back over to the bakery shop section, back to the glass door, the bell above it, and the sign hanging over the front. The rain continued to pour, and the faint sound of thunder muffled through the skies.

“but it ain’t my message exactly.” He turned back to her. “big guy wanted to pass a word along.”

That made Toriel’s hands pause.

Flowey looked from both monsters, his dark eyes swishing around the empty space that was his petaled head.

Then a grin formed.

“Oh! Did Daddy say hi to me?”

Toriel didn’t say anything. Sans shrugged at the flower. “can’t tell you, kid. he didn’t mention _hi_ or _low_ of you.”

Flowey scoffed. “You know that’s not what I-”

“Asriel.” Toriel raised her head. The ceiling lights glinted off her eyes, highlighting the crimson that swirled within their depths. “Please take your homework and go upstairs to your room. Try to finish the rest of your assignment and I will come along to check it over.”

“What?!” The plant quivered with impatience. “But I wanna know what Dad said! And I _told_ you that my name is Flo-”

 _“Asriel,”_ she repeated. Her mouth was set firm. “I’m not asking you again.”

The air felt hot, despite the cool rain outside. The flower wilted.

“…Ugh, fine.”

Was an interesting sight to see a houseplant try to cradle both a heavy-bound textbook and a sheaf of written-on papers in their leaves, all while holding a pencil in its mouth. “think you can handle all that, bud?” Sans couldn’t help but ask. The little weed predictably growled and tried to yell, but only ended up dropping the pencil and some spit onto the table.

Toriel glared.

“…I still want my pie later!” Then the flower nabbed the pencil with his teeth, and hopped off the chair to the floor, still attached to that hat that Toriel usually wore. Toriel’s home didn’t pave the way for a dirt floor, so the flower stumbled a bit, all the way through the living room and up the stairs, making sure to grumble all the way. “And don’t let him eat it!” Flowey shouted down before a door slammed.

Sans leaned back on the chair, shrugging in the most innocent way possible. “don’t know what the kid’s talking about. i already ate his slice five minutes ago.”

Sure enough, Flowey’s plate was cleared off except for a few crumbs.

He saw something then – the quirk of a smile that tugged at Toriel’s lips. But it faded fast the moment her attention went back to the crumpled letter.

“i can come back later if you want.”

“No, no, you do not need to.” Toriel took a breath, finally unraveling the letter. She stood up from her chair, reaching for a pair of reading glasses that she kept on her dress. “I will just be a moment.”

Sans resigned to that. He pushed away his own pie plate that was just as empty as the other.

It was probably weird watching her as she read the letter, he figured. But it’s not like he had anything much better to do. Besides, it was a good way to identify her tells – how her muzzle twitched like so when she was annoyed with something, or how she absently toyed with the blunt of her horn when she came across a mental obstacle. He noticed that same thing when they would both solve the crossword together – or more recently, the horoscope. (His cool bro’s suggestion).

At one point, her glasses seemed to steam up and, wait, was it getting hot in here? Having no skin made it hard to tell these things. But Toriel had removed her glasses then. She neatly tucked it back in her dress pocket, then proceeded to fold the letter into a nicely-shaped square. (Sans would have done that the first time, but it wasn’t like ol’ fluffybuns even asked him to. No need to do extra work like that). She stared at the letter with casual disinterest and walked over to the trash bin that was placed neatly by the door that led back to the bakery shop.

Then the letter immediately combusted into flame, illuminating the room harshly before extinguishing, all in a matter of seconds. The ashes fell into the trash.

Sans blinked. “guess that got you pretty heated.”

She didn’t smile at his joke this time. The fire was still in her eyes, before it dulled to a cautious warmth. “He wanted to know of my… progress.”

The skeleton was absently playing with the ketchup bottle. The opening of it was clogged over with some crust. Bummer. “yeah, guy’s a bit nosy, huh?”

“Sans,” she spoke to him seriously. “You are the judge. Is not inquiring over the affairs of his previous business in violation of his current sentence?”

“eh, probably.”

“…Did you tell him that?”

“think i mentioned a word or two about that.” Sans finally picked away the gross crust stuff, and was able to take a nice, refreshing gulp of the processed condiment. “but, uh, he’s pretty good at wording things just the right way, you know. making it legal and all that.”

Toriel sighed. “I must say I am not surprised. Asgore and his _loopholes.”_

“yeah.” Sans saw how Toriel stared at that trash can, the ashes already disappearing among the crushed bits of snail shells. “said he just wanted to ask how you were.”

“Yes, that sounds very chivalrous of him.” Toriel had to edge herself away from the trash to go back to the table. Her hands made as if to go for the pie, but she stopped herself, laying them clasped together on her lap.

“tori, ya know i’m the last person that’s going to judge ya for binge-eating.” He drank another swill of salty ketchup. “it’s a favorite pastime of mine, after all.”

There was a giggle this time from her – and it wasn’t totally forced either. He could appreciate that.

Toriel lifted her hands to place them on the table. Her claws tapped against the utensils. “It has been very busy lately.”

Sans nodded. “heard the family business was tough.” Especially when one was head of said The Family – the volunteer-run group of monsters that sought to help out all monsterkind with fundraisers, social work, and the like.

Toriel breathed in gently. “That’s a bit of an understatement. Just this week, a very curious, armless monster child had run away from his home. Said he got lost trying to find a job to help his family. It took quite a while to locate his parents.” She rubbed a hand against her temple, then gave a little sigh. “We were able to offer them some occupation, to help out with the home construction on the west side for the vulkins. They really do quite amazing work just using their feet.”

“good ol’ charity work.” The skeleton favored her decision with a wink. “we all knew you’d be great for the job though.”

“You mean the only one for the job. Certainly no one else was grabbing for it. Especially not after the reputation that Asgore had left it with…”

Yeah, having a criminal record over killing another monster probably had something to do with it.

Well, _allegedly._

“you don’t have to stick with it though.”

“Yes, I do, Sans,” Toriel nodded. “I’ve run away from my responsibilities long enough… And someone has to clean up the mess.”

Sans didn’t have much to say to that. But he did have another thing to mention. Seeing Asgore on his weekly judicial visits (which really consisted of playing checkers and having chamomile tea) made him remember again.

“oh yeah, and the kid’s doing just fine. don’t know if fluffybuns mentioned that.”

He could hear Toriel hold in her breath. “He made a passing mention of them, yes.” She paused. “They are not safe with him.”

“don’t gotta tell me twice.”

“Apparently I do.” Her tone suddenly had an edge to it – one that was rarely pointed at him. “You know what he is capable of, and yet you allow this.”

And the thing was, Sans knew he didn’t have much of an excuse, except for…

“frisk is a pretty determined kid, you know. not much i can do against that.”

One reason he didn’t hang out with humans much. Or trust them either. Never know what weird stuff they were capable of.

Asgore must have thought the same thing.

She didn’t look convinced, and he didn’t blame her, but having her angry eyes on him was putting a damper on his mood. “kid looks healthy though. not hanging out on the streets anymore. knows how to brew a good tea – and can bake, too. and, uh, someone’s gotta do the big guy’s shopping since he’s under house arrest and all.”

“And why can’t that someone be an adult?”

“no adults were willing.” Not even Undyne, which he thought was weird. Guess she really wanted to let the past be. Maybe he could learn from her, someday. “and legally, can’t let past business associates have contact with him either. but you know, the kid’s been smiling lately. seemed real happy hanging out there… kinda creepy, actually.”

Toriel still huffed at the explanation. Sans tried another avenue. “ya know, being legal guardian and all, i’m sure you can talk to ‘em and they’d come running back.”

She finally relented and went to cut a piece of pie for herself. The tin clinked against both knife and fork as she brought a slice onto her plate. “I don’t believe they will, no. I was hoping… you could talk some sense into them.”

“ah, tori.” He leaned back against the chair, hands in his pockets. “you expect too much of me.”

She didn’t deny that.

* * *

Sans will always remember when he first met Toriel. It had been another rainy day, a quiet one, with the cars swishing by on the pavement as nightfall descended. She had been there on the sidewalk, umbrella in hand, her fur slightly matted from the rain. Despite the weather she wore a wide-brimmed sunhat, topped with a flower that even had a kinda-smiley face on it. She had been the first person to even look at him that day.

Oh, and he had been begging her for money.

“spare some change, lady?”

The skeleton had picked the perfect spot for his shtick. Just right by the mailbox underneath the lamppost, across the street from this adorable-looking bakery that always had the best smells. He wasn’t really a pie and pastry kind of guy, but he liked the aesthetic of it.

Seating his behind on the wet sidewalk, she had been looking down at him. Not condescendingly or anything like that, just literally looking down, especially at her height. He had to crane his neck bone to meet her eyes.

“Oh? Have you met some misfortune, young man?”

“yeah, haven’t had a bite to eat in weeks. now i’m all-bones.”

An unexpected laugh had bleated out of her at that – which was surprising. He couldn’t remember an audience that responded so well to the warm-up jokes.

Through stifled laughter, she gestured to him. “But then, why do you have a nice cream cone?”

Sans shifted his gaze to said nice cream cone, held within his right hand’s grip.

“…beats me, actually. but hey, it’s nice, huh?” Usually, he could think on his feet when it came to his stuff. (But then again, he wasn’t standing anyway). He was also a bit distracted by the way her long ears framed her face, and the sheer snow-whiteness of her fur.

“You know what goes great with nice cream? A hot slice of butterscotch pie. Oh! Or do you prefer cinnamon? Or perhaps both?”

“well, i’m more of a ketchup and fries guy myself.”

That wasn’t even really a joke, but she laughed anyway and hey, that was nice.

Then he heard a groan. “Who is this loser? Can we go home already?!”

Sans craned his neck some more. “heh, didn’t see you, bud. how’s the weather up there?”

Toriel poked the complaining flower, then smiled apologetically. “Please excuse his behavior. He’s just shy around new people.”

“I’m not shy around trash- ow!”

Okay, Sans had to laugh. Something about a goat lady scolding a plant was hilarious.

It was a real bonus that she seemed to like bad jokes, too.

After Flowey was made to mumble out an apology, Toriel pulled out a few coins of monster currency, laying it within Sans’ empty palm.

“I wish you the best of luck in your future. My bakery is just across from here, and I would love for you to visit when you have found your way. I will give you a pie slice on the house!”

“What?!” the flower shouted, absolutely mortified. “Don’t do that!”

First thing Sans thought when he heard that: alright, some freebies.

Second thing: this lady seemed very nice and genuine. It was hard to tell the real genuine folk of this town, even from other monsters. But not this lady.

“careful. i might take up on your offer.”

She smiled even wider at that. Perched underneath her umbrella, and dressed in a long, swishing dress, she looked like she brought spring with her wherever she went. Just have that flower on her hat smile more often, and it’d be perfect.

“I cannot wait until then,” she said to him, then proceeded to cross the street. He heard the flower grumble more, until they were both out of earshot.

He kept the change she gave him. In his back pocket, always just out of reach from his other coins.

You don’t give away gifts.

* * *

Sans will always remember how he first met Toriel.

And he will always remember just what she asked of him only moments before.

He tried not to think too hard about that, already fiddling with the radio that was set up on a small coffee table. Static kept interrupting the sound waves, morphing the voices coming out of the speakers. Toriel didn’t have a television set – too high tech for her tastes – but it gave Sans a great excuse to rest his eye sockets when they listened in on the latest radio drama. Maybe catch a few Z’s here and there.

“heard metts’ switching gears now. literally and figuratively, heh. wanna catch his latest show?”

Toriel was gathering up the plates and pie tin, her back to Sans as he laid back on her plush sofa. “I must now get back to work, Sans. Perhaps next time.”

“aw, come on. sure ya can’t just leave the shop closed for an hour? this one sounds really good.”

 _“…and then I told him, “That’s not my engine coolant, that’s my wife!”_ Cue the canned laughter, along with brief interruptions of more static. _“Oh, thank you, beauties and gentle(fzzt!) Remember to call in now to get the chance to speak with your favorite (schzt! fshhh!) and everybody LOVES me!”_

“killer new song,” Sans commented.

Toriel turned toward the stereo sound. “Oh, it does sound quite fun, though I should have that antenna fixed. But I really must get going. Hopefully they will do a repeat of it later tonight.”

Sans reached out to reluctantly turn off the radio. Too bad, he could snooze easy to this.

“ _Alphys, darling, you’re talking (rrrek!) again. Game of Bones is not of any relevance to this program.”_

_“B-but the mangaka is not even writing anymore and-and (tshiig!) o-opened a f-film studio to waste even more time (rrek fzzzt!) st-stupid sell-out and a h-hack!”_

_“Oh my god, just play a record already-!”_ Click.

He edged off the couch, watching quietly as Toriel made her way to the kitchen. “it’s pouring pretty hard out there today. more than usual. might not get many customers.”

“Actually, someone is helping take over the afternoon sales. I have other matters.”

“oh?”

Disappearing through the kitchen doorway, Sans didn’t expect much else. Then she stepped out again, leaning backwards with a grin, the dirty plates still held within her arms.

“Yes. _Family_ matters.” Then she winked, and vanished once again.

Sans choked on air. Did that joke even made sense? Who cares? His bones were light from her delivery.

It wasn’t long before Toriel’s bakery replacement came in. The buff bunny monster was a bit eager for his shift – he was already wearing the pie-patterned apron and everything. Though he no longer wore the pin-striped suit, he still had his hat on, which shadowed most of his face.

“Yo! I’m like, here to help, boss lady!” he called out from the front. The shop looked ludicrously small with this bench-pressing monster standing within the middle of the place.

“Oh, he is here quite early.” Toriel, having already finished her washing, was now dressed in a more business-casual outfit, it’s colors muted instead of the brightness that was her sundress. Atop her head, she wore a pillbox hat, it’s surface absent of patterns and sentient flowers. “I supposed that gives me a head-start.”

Sans walked her to the front, eyes latched onto the purse she carried. Very elegant, with golden clasps. And the way she walked spoke of a regal authority that was awfully familiar. “what’s on the agenda today for ya, queen tori?” he asked her naturally.

Toriel blinked at the royal address – yeah, he didn’t know where that came from either – but she answered him still.

“Another monster family was unfairly kicked out of their home. Apparently, their human neighbors complained and cited a housing violation. I will be going to the regulations office for a meeting. I am hoping we can reach a sort of mutual arrangement for equal housing.” She tsked, already gesturing for the buff monster to take his place behind the counter. “It is not the poor monsters’ fault that they are completely made of fire.”

“yeah, grillbz has the same problem. guess his landlord just can’t stand the heat.”

Toriel stifled her laugh, but it came out as a hiccup, which only made Sans grin even more. “Yes, well, if your friend needs help, he can come over for a chat anytime.”

“i’ll make sure to pass it along,” he said, kinda meaning it.

Toriel was back to instructing her worker. “There are several loaves of bread in the oven there. Be sure to check on them. Oh, and Mrs. Waters will be here in about an hour to pick up her cake. It’s right there on the left shelf.”

“Gnarly prep work, boss,” said the bunny monster, openly admiring the cake’s decorative work. A birthday cake, clearly, with fanciful ribbons, rainbow rosettes on its sides, and a neatly-written ‘Happy Birthday, Joel!’ written with the neatest and florid of penmanship… or pipesmanship. (Because using a cake piping and all. Only cake aficionados would truly get the joke. Sans thought it was probably best to leave it out of his set).

Once the bunny dude was set-up, Toriel and Sans left the shop. The rain was still pouring heavily outside, washing the sidewalks clean. They both stood under the awning of the bakery, hearing the raindrops plunk against the material.

“Ah, and there is my car ride.”

Sans looked to his left and, sure enough, a fancy-looking blue car was parked just a little upwards of the bakery. With a squinting of his eye sockets, he could see the other half of the buff duo that Asgore once employed in his flower shop. The dragon-looking monster was still dressed in his pinstripe suit, from what Sans could see through the constant shower from the skies.

“I am sorry to leave so abruptly today, Sans.”

“no worries, t.” He shrugged. “i still got a free meal out of it. why would i complain?”

Just as she was about to laugh again, he saw her eyes widen curiously. “Oh my! You’re missing one of your adorable slippers!”

The skeleton looked down and, what do you know, he was wearing only one of the things. The other was living free in the rain, toe bones planted against the pavement. See, if he had skin, he could avoid these mishaps.

“how about that? must have left it on your couch. i’ll get it later.”

“Sans, are you admitting you put up your feet on my upholstery?”

“naaah.”

Another smile from her. He could do this all day. He wouldn’t mind it at all.

But she had to go. Though the car horn didn’t beep, her chauffeur kept staring at them in intervals. Toriel then hurriedly made her way to the car, one hand holding onto her hat, the other clutching her purse to her chest. Even so, she made sure to turn to him with a wave of goodbye. “Please come back tomorrow. I will make sure the radio is properly tuned this time!”

“wouldn’t dream of missing it,” Sans said, fully meaning it, as he always did.

He remained underneath the awning, watching as the car drove down the street. Though it was only mid-afternoon, the lampposts outside were already lit. They casted pools of light on the streets. The car passed underneath one such light, it’s coat looking to nearly shine from the washing it received from the rain. Then the car made a right turn, leaving Sans with nothing more than an empty, noir-painted street.

Welp. Time to get back his footwear.

He didn’t feel like going through the front door again (boring) and just walked straight into the living room. There was the turned-off radio on the coffee table, his ketchup bottle in a cup holder, and a pink, fuzzy slipper laying on a couch cushion.

Also Flowey was there.

“She’s already gone, you idiot,” the flower snapped. He was perched within a little flower pot this time, one that was situated squarely in the middle of the coffee table. Yeah, soil was probably an important thing for this kid.

That and manners.

“nice seeing you again, bud. betcha finished that homework, huh?”

“Hmph!” Flowey pouted, crossing his leaves together, as if leaves had elbows and joints and all that. “since you’re so interested, why don’t _you_ just finish it for me?”

“ok.”

Flowey sputtered. “Wait? Really?! You’ll do it?”

“nope, just messing.”

He juggled his unworn slipper in his left hand, too lazy to put it on. “see ya.”

“Wait!”

He didn’t really want to, so just kept walking forward. The walls to his right shifted. Plaster cracked, leaving little shards on the floor. Vines extended from the damaged walls and floor. Wood boards were torn in half from the strength of it.

Flowey’s face hovered before him, features stretched to nightmarish proportions. Sadistic intent played out in the plant’s eyes.

Sans stood where he was, slipper still in hand. “you know i’m gonna tell your mom.”

The flower flinched. His elongated eyes and sharp-toothed mouth reverted back to normalcy for a second, before reaffirming themselves. “L-like I care!” he shouted, his voice’s tone distorted and low, but also having cracked there for a second. It had been a really weird sound, basically.

“i mean this is cute and all, but papyrus has a plate of expired spaghetti waiting for me that i need to figure out how to miss.”

“No!” The abomination of a flower stretched out his stem, grinning wide, opening his maw that was only blackness and despair. Or, at least that was the impression Sans figured the kid was trying to do. He wasn’t paying all that much attention to be sure. “I know… I know that- that you know! And that you know that I know… that you know! You idiot! Ha!”

“wow kid, you’re really bad at this.”

“Shut up! I’m not going to let you get me like-”

“hey. look. why don’t we sit down and forget all this?”

“Don’t interrupt me!” Flowey shrieked, his malformed voice now high-pitched. Amazing the bunny monster didn’t hear any of this. Asgore sure knew how to pick ‘em. “I’m going settle things with you, and then-”

“kid.” Sans dropped the slipper to the floor, putting it back on his foot with the laziest of motions, his skull angled downwards to better see. The continued casualness of his tone stopped Flowey in mid-gloating. “how about we take a breather?”

Just a moment of hesitation before the flower tried again. “I’m not done!”

Sans raised his head. He opened his eye sockets.

“Y e s  y o u  a r e.” A pause, to lay on the effect. “N o w  s i t  d o w n.”

Sometimes you need a professional.

The flower shrank back then, fangs hidden away, eyes reverting back to the normal dots.

Sans remained where he was.

The flower then started to shrink, his winding vines disappearing, though leaving a mess behind. Eventually, the flower was in the middle of the floor, planted in his flower pot. Flowey grimaced, looking almost ready to cry in frustration.

“see?” Sans shrugged. “if you wanted a chat, should’ve just asked.”

The flower grumbled some more.

“but hey, we all get a little grumpy when we’re young. you’re like in your terrible two’s, right?”

“Shut up already.” Flowey wouldn’t look at him. “I… changed my mind. Just go.”

“heh, okay then.” Sans walked around the plant, heading for the kitchen for some reason.

Then he stopped.

“one thing though, bud.”

The flower timidly angled his head towards Sans, nothing but venom in his eyes. No joy or thrill. Good signs. Maybe he won’t make these same mistakes if they bring him nothing but headaches.

“i don’t know what you’re assuming, but i don’t know nothing. and that’s all well and good, right? as long as things stay nice and normal.” He paused. “just a good time for everybody.”

Flowey flinched.

“capiche?” Sans winked. “here, go buy yourself a soda pop.” Sans took a coin out of his back pocket, still reflecting that light like it once did out in the rain. He tossed it towards Flowey who caught it with a fumble.

But he let a thought slide. Easy to catch wind of when you were magically-inclined, like a certain talking flower.

**So don’t mess up the happy ending we got.**

At that, Flowey shot out of the flower pot, straight into the upended floor. Sans watched the ground upturn as the flower ran off to his bedroom. (Which meant the stairs were slightly broken afterwards).

Sans was never that great with kids.

* * *

Now as the only monster judge available, Sans had to make… good judgements. And the only way to do that was to keep an eye on people, and observe them routinely.

Or in lamer terms, spying.

Sans had already done so with Asgore before the whole court trial, and even then, for a huge furry goat monster, the guy was rather sneaky. Sans couldn’t keep up half the time, which was why he was glad on having a cool bro help out with said case. Asgore had a lot of shady dealings – some downright _killer_ even – and Sans wasn’t a big fan of surprises. He hoped that would be the last.

Besides, barely competent spying was really all he could do anyway. Whatever wards Asgore had set up back then, they were strong, keeping the skeleton out of the inner space of his home, where he knew those souls stayed contained. It was enough to make his shortcuts just really long detours back home instead. Probably Alphys’ handiwork, that poor nerd.

Too bad really, that those missing kid reports had to stay missing.

Now that Asgore was under house arrest, and his pursuit of souls to harness their power for a long-dead son was out of the picture, it made Sans’ job easier. He could just perch himself up on a fire-escape and keep spying for hours instead of following the guy from place to place. No room for error. Just the best scenario all-around for him.

On that same fire-escape, hood of his blue jacket pulled up over his skull, he watched. Along with his basketball shorts, he did not fit with the…atmosphere, and he knew this. But he was here, and that was good enough.

What would Papyrus do in this situation though?

Oh yeah, the whole detective reporting shtick. Well.

There was that kid again, still wearing their striped shirt, and their hair barely combed. They were seated on the floor in Asgore’s living room. A tea cup was cradled in their hand. And across from them, the big guy himself was seated too. He was hunched over, his burly body looking too big for anything. But Asgore persevered, holding his own teacup between thick fingers. His great horns bobbed along with his head as he nodded and spoke to Frisk.

And Frisk was smiling.

Weird.

Sans wouldn’t stay long. (Cold plate of spaghetti? Cool bro Papyrus, remember? Keep up). But he noted some other strange things before he would leave. Like an illusion kind of deal. Where a color would shift, and the rain would mute itself. Sans couldn’t really tell what it was all about exactly, and honestly, he didn’t feel comfortable anymore.

Still, it was worth keeping tabs on. Gotta keep the happy ending, after all.

Besides, Tori had asked him.

_“Watch over them, will you not?”_

The kid’s smile was a small thing, gentle and understanding. That was a good thing, but…

Eh, he just needed some sleep.

“you expect too much from me, t,” he said out loud.

But he was looking forward to tomorrow still.

With a sigh, Sans laid back against the fire escape grating. Then he was gone.

Meanwhile, both human child and big fuzzy pushover continued to chat with each other, late into the afternoon.


End file.
